Historical brain transplant

Maybe it’s not your home town you’re sick of. Maybe you’re sick of you. While the science of brain transplantation is not entirely perfected, there are other options for escaping the prison that is your skull (and no, we’re not talking about a ride on the peyote highway).

Instead of asking such vague questions as ‘What would Jesus do?’, try asking ‘What would Jesus do if he got to Kmart and the advertised special on fleece throw rugs was all sold out and the woman on the desk wouldn’t give him a raincheck and he was late for a meeting with his CEO?’. Or, for example, what would Genghis Khan do if he'd forgotten it was his four-year-old daughter's birthday this weekend and he had only two days to organise a children's party?

First, write the names of famous people on slips of paper. Second, write the names of places around town on other slips of paper. Randomly pull a slip from each bunch. What do you know: you’re Cleopatra, and you’re trying to buy a used car.

It might be pushing it to show up to the used car lot and pretend to be Cleopatra (but if you’re keen, hey, go for it!). But you might enjoy the exercise of doing everyday things while imagining you’re someone entirely different. For example, browse cupcake recipes online while imagining you’re Genghis Khan, then write up your experiences (as Genghis, of course) on your blog. Want more? Have all your friends choose a slip each from the ‘famous person’ pile, all visit the same spot from the ‘places in town’ pile, and each write up your experiences.

Miro, Miro on the wall

You’ve probably played the old surrealist game where you fold a piece of paper and someone draws the head, folds it and passes it on to someone who draws the body, and they fold it and pass it on to someone who draws the legs, then you unfold it and have a laugh at the results. This is a travel version of that game.

You’ll need at least four people for this excursion, so bribe your friends. Get them all together and fold a piece of paper in four. On the first section, secretly write a destination you’re going to visit (this could be Afghanistan or the mall or the future, whatever takes your fancy, and depending on the kind of resources you and your friends have). Fold the paper over and pass it to one of your friends, who secretly writes an activity (street theatre, knitting, a running race, fishing...).

They fold the paper over and pass it to the next person, who secretly writes a dress code (black tie, dress as clowns, ballerina outfits, diapers...). They fold it over and pass to the fourth person, who chooses an item you all have to bring (a potted plant, a champagne glass, the complete works of Mark Twain...).

Unfold the paper, and there’s your expedition. Depending on how tricky it’s going to be to execute, give yourselves a set amount of time to get together the things you need, then meet up and have your surrealist experience.

If you have more friends willing to join in, you could add other items such as budget, a manner of speaking (only using thee and thou, no swearing, no first names...), a mode of transport (hop everywhere, go by bike, use public transport...), or make up some of your own.

Make sure you take lots of photos so you can embarrass yourself in front of anyone who wasn’t silly enough to come along.

Your very own guide

If you had a copy of every guide book to San Francisco, you could wallpaper the entire Vatican with their pages*. So much has been written about Los Angeles, Sydney, London, New York City, Paris and Bangkok that a traveler visiting one of these cities can not only find out the best value-for-money restaurant in their neighborhood, they can also get guidance on what’s a good topic for conversation with their airport cab driver, the most appropriate cheer for the local football team and where they can get a hot stone massage and nightingale guano facial.

But what about visitors to your town, huh? What kind of help do they get? Even if you do live in a top tourist destination, you’ll likely find that the big travel publishers have only written up the most obvious hot-spots in the city and missed most of the places that you hold dear.

Write your own guide: that’ll show ‘em. It’s not that hard to do. Start out with a list of your favourite restaurants and places to shop. Describe each of them, give an idea what they cost, then call them to check their opening hours. If you’re feeling ambitious, make a map. If you’re still keen, add some must-see visitors’ spots (these might include a hill with a great view of the sunset, your favourite boarded-up factory or a particular bus route: this is about what you like, not about what’s ‘popular’), some details about the best ways to get around town and perhaps a bit of local history. Got some good photos? Stick those in too. And there you have it: a guide you can give to friends or family who come to visit, or even to friends or family who already live here.

*not an actual fact

Art gallery stories

Does your town have an art museum? A small gallery? How about a shop that sells prints and won’t kick you out if you hang around with a notepad and pen?

Take a few friends to the gallery and sit yourselves down in front of one of the pictures. Give yourselves a time – say, 15 minutes – and write a story each about what is happening in the picture. When you’re done, read each others’ stories. How different were your interpretations? If you enjoy the process, choose another picture and do it again.

If you’re feeling extra keen, grab postcards of the artworks (or print them out from the Internet) and compile them, along with the stories, into a little book for each of your friends.